Page 58 of Raising Love
She was breathtaking like this. Eyes half-lidded, her skin glowing with sweat, her long hair cascading over her face, covering one of her breasts.
I took her firmly by the waist, my other hand sliding up past her jaw and burying itself in her hair, holding her steady.
“Don’t rush it,” I breathed, pumping my hips upward deliberately.
Her brows furrowed slightly, her voice trembling as she whispered, “What?”
Her moans began to align with my deliberate, deep thrusts as I slowed my pace even further.
“I wanna take my time this time,” I confessed, my eyes locked on hers.
She blinked rapidly, her breath hitching. “What?” she asked again, voice weaker now. “Why?”
“’Cause,” I groaned at her slick grip around me. “You feel like a never-ending weekend.”
Her lips pressed together, then parted as her eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed by the sensation. She braced one hand on my chest, her rhythm faltering as I held her in place, controlling every movement.
In that moment, all I wanted was to feel her. All of her. To make this moment last longer than the last. Because even though I had no idea what any of this meant for us, I wanted to remember it, in case this was the last time.
My measured strokes disrupted her rhythm, leaving her gasping and chasing the sensation with desperation. Watching her come undone—her eyes fighting to stay open, her lips trembling—spurred me to shift positions.
I lifted her thigh to assist in turning her onto her back. Slowly, I slid out of her, kissing my way down her body until I nestled my lips between her thighs. Without hesitation, I licked along her folds, flicking my tongue over her sensitive bud.
“Leo,” she whispered, my name falling from her lips like a prayer. Her back arched, and her hands gripped the back of my head, keeping me exactly where she wanted me. I stayed there, savoring the way her thighs trembled around my face, listening to her soft gasps and moans as she unraveled.
Her taste lingered on my tongue as I kissed my way back up her body. I positioned myself over her again, meeting her gaze as I guided myself back inside her, slower than ever. I watched as her body stiffened beneath me, adjusting to me tunneling into her, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Ivy clung to both ends of the pillow beneath her head, her legs spread wide for me. The sight of her—slick, trembling, her body reacting to every thrust—was hypnotizing. I glanced down to where our bodies joined, mesmerized by the way I disappeared inside her, again and again.
When her eyes slipped shut, I pressed my palm gently to her cheek. “Nah, look at me,” I whispered.
Her eyes opened slowly, lids heavy, as I ran my thumb along her bottom lip and let it linger there.
I moved at an agonizingly slow pace, savoring every moment, every sound, every sensation. This wasn’t my usual approach—quick, rough, often impersonal—but with Ivy, I wanted time to stop.
We locked eyes, our moans perfectly in sync. Her chest rose and fell faster with each thrust, her lips trembling as her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably.
“Leo,” she whispered, her voice filled with something I couldn’t quite place.
“What’s up, gorgeous?” I whispered back. “I’m listening.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, her words halting. “We shouldn’t be doing this. ‘Cause what are we doing?”
“Feeling really fucking good, for a little bit,” I answered truthfully, my voice low and ragged. “Just for a little.”
She shook her head slightly, biting her lip as if to hold something back.
“What? Am I not making you feel good, Ivy?” I asked, my thrusts intentional and measured. “‘Cause you’re making me feel incredible. Are you not feeling what I’m feeling?”
“I am.”
“And am I hitting your spot?”
She nodded slowly, her voice barely audible. "You're hitting it like you know it all too well."
The confession sent a shiver through me, and I had to draw in a deep breath to keep my pace steady. “That’s all I need to hear right now,” I whispered. “Does that work for you?”
Her answer came in a soft, drawn-out moan. “Oooh, yessss.”
